Chương 49: A Mariner

Before Arien managed to free himself from the rope, the worst of the storm had already moved past them. Thunder still rolled somewhere behind the Golden Mussel, and distant flashes lit the clouds from within, but the rain had stopped. Through gaps overhead, stars appeared one by one. Arien barely noticed them. His ears were still ringing, and the deck smelled of wet timber, smoke, and the sharp scent left behind by lightning. Broken rope and splintered wood covered the planks. Then one of the bodies moved.

A sailor rolled onto his side with a groan. Another pushed himself upright, blinking hard and looking around in confusion. Farther away, someone cursed while pulling a thin shard of wood from his sleeve. Arien exhaled. Most of them were alive. The lightning strike had thrown men across the deck and showered them with fragments of the mast, but many were already getting back to their feet.

Blood ran from cuts along arms and faces, and several sailors remained down, yet the scene was nowhere near the massacre Arien had imagined when he first opened his eyes. Maybe—"Sanrey!" Miley's voice cut across the deck. The first mate was on his knees several paces from the shattered mast, bent over a body small enough that Arien recognized Sanrey before he saw his face. His stomach dropped, and he was already running before he noticed the boy move. Sanrey was alive.

The relief lasted only until Arien reached them and looked at his legs. Sanrey lay on his back with his jaw clenched tight, one hand gripping Miley's sleeve while the other hovered over his thighs, as if he was afraid to touch them. Dozens of wooden splinters had punched through his trousers. Most were little more than bloody needles buried beneath the skin, but several larger shards protruded from his thighs and calves.

His right lower leg was worse, bent at an angle no leg should and already swelling beneath the soaked fabric. Arien had seen enough fractures in Ythrel's clinic to know this one was serious. Miley knelt beside him with a strip of bandage in his hands, pressing it against one wound before looking toward the broken leg and then back again. His hands shook badly enough for Arien to notice.

"Give me that." Miley looked up.

"Arien—""Give me the bandage. I helped the Healer back home." Miley hesitated, then handed it over. Arien immediately pressed the folded cloth against the worst of the bleeding.

"Hold this here. Hard." Fortunately, Miley obeyed, though he kept watching Arien suspiciously. Arien scanned Sanrey's body, forcing himself to ignore the amount of blood. Small splinters could wait. The larger ones lodged deep would have to stay where they were. Pulling them out now could make the bleeding worse. First, he needed to stop it and stabilize the leg. The moment Arien touched his thigh, Sanrey screamed. His whole body went rigid, fingers clawing at Miley's sleeve. Arien winced but kept working.

Sailors began gathering around them, drawn by the screams, until Fenrey's voice cut across the deck.

"Back to work! We're not safe yet!" Men scattered almost immediately, but Miley remained kneeling beside Sanrey, staring at him.

"Go. Help the captain." Miley still didn't move. Arien hardened his voice.

"I know what to do. Go." Miley looked from Arien to Sanrey one last time, then pressed the bloodied cloth into Arien's hand.

"Call me if—""I will." Miley rose and hurried away. By then, Sanrey's screams had weakened into ragged gasps. A few moments later, his eyes rolled back and his body went limp. Still breathing. Good. He cleaned what he could and removed only the shallow splinters that came free easily. The larger pieces remained buried beneath torn cloth and blood. His attention kept returning to the right leg. Swelling had already begun around the fracture. In Ribenne, he had treated cuts, burns, infections, and aching joints.

Sanrey's leg involved bone, muscle, blood vessels, nerves, and dozens of injuries layered over one another. His Life Aspect stirred almost instinctively, and Arien stopped himself. Life magic could help, but using enough of it would be hard to hide. He had planned to reach Wayhold before anyone learned what he could really do. Sanrey's injuries had been seen by half the crew. If the boy woke tomorrow with a straight leg and closed wounds, no lie about bandages and good fortune would survive five minutes.

But if Arien did nothing…

"Thank you, boy." Fenrey's voice pulled him from the thought. The captain stood over them. His expression was as controlled as ever, but his gaze never left his son.

"Miley says you know what you're doing."

"More than nothing," Arien said. Fenrey nodded once.

"Can we move him?" Arien looked at Sanrey once more.

"Carefully. We need something rigid. A plank wide enough for his back. Keep his head, neck, and body from twisting, and don't touch the larger splinters." Fenrey nodded sharply toward a sailor nearby. The man ran without waiting for another order. The captain was silent for several seconds, then asked quietly, "Will he live?"

"I think so." Arien chose the words carefully.

"The bleeding is mostly under control. But the wounds need cleaning, the deeper splinters have to come out, and his leg needs to be set." Fenrey's jaw tightened.

"And the leg?" Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Arien looked up at him.

"Will my son walk?" Without magic? Arien looked back at the twisted leg and couldn't bring himself to answer. Fenrey slowly exhaled through his nose.

"I see." Fenrey's cabin was larger than Arien had expected, though the heavy table bolted to its center took up most of the space. Someone had already swept maps and instruments from its surface by the time they carried Sanrey inside. Rough sketches of distant ports covered the walls, some detailed down to individual piers, others unfinished collections of roofs and towers. Under different circumstances, Arien would have stopped to examine them, but now he barely noticed.

The sailors laid Sanrey on a folded blanket across the table. He groaned when they lowered him, but never opened his eyes.

"Careful with the leg." Arien began sorting through everything the crew had brought him: bandages, thread and needles, knives, pliers, bowls of boiled water, and several bottles whose contents he didn't recognize. It would have to be enough. Once he had arranged everything within reach, Arien turned back to Sanrey. He needed to know whether Life magic could actually help before deciding if his secret was worth revealing.

He placed one hand on Sanrey's thigh and released the thinnest thread of Life mana he could manage. The response was immediate. Closing his eyes, Arien felt the leg unfold inside his awareness. Blood vessels branched through muscle. Nerves stretched in impossibly fine strands. Bone emerged beneath them, and Arien almost recoiled. This was nothing like what he had sensed before choosing first specialization. Damage no longer appeared simply as places where something felt wrong. He could distinguish degrees now.

Torn muscle from bruised. Crushed tissue from tissue merely starved of blood. Hairline fractures from places where bone had broken into separate pieces. When he focused on an injury, his Skill seemed to suggest several ways he might approach it. A damaged vessel could be sealed. A torn muscle drawn together. A fragment of bone nudged toward where it belonged. With enough mana, some injuries might be restored almost completely. With less, he could stabilize them and leave the body to finish the work.

Arien almost lost himself in it. If this was only the first specialization— Sanrey groaned. Right. Sanrey. Focus. Arien pushed deeper. Sanrey's right leg was a ruin. Several muscles had torn during the fall. Splinters had opened dozens of smaller channels through the flesh. One fracture was relatively clean; another had splintered the bone into pieces that no longer aligned properly. Swelling was already compressing some of the surrounding tissue. Worse, the damage was still changing.

Blood continued leaking where vessels had torn. Swelling spread. Every minute they waited made the eventual repair more complicated. Arien tested several approaches, adjusting the flow of Life mana each time. Every one consumed far more than he expected. He could stabilize the leg and probably save much of the damaged tissue, but rebuilding bone, muscle, vessels, and nerves all at once was beyond him. Even if he somehow managed it, he had no idea whether Sanrey would actually be able to use the leg afterward.

When Arien opened his eyes, Miley was sitting on the other side of the table, watching him. Arien flinched.

"Sorry," Miley said.

"Didn't mean to startle you. Were you praying?"

"Something like that." Arien glanced toward the door.

"How bad is the ship?"

"Nothing we can't repair in a few days." Miley looked down at Sanrey.

"Unlike him." He rubbed both hands over his face.

"I've seen wounds like this before. Pulling those splinters out could make the bleeding worse." His gaze settled on Sanrey's right leg. He hesitated.

"Usually, they cut it off and burn the stump."

"No amputation." Both of them looked down to find Sanrey awake. He tried to push himself onto his elbows, immediately hissed through clenched teeth, and sank back onto the blanket.

"Call Father."

"He sent me," Miley said.

"Someone still has to command the ship."

"Then take his place." Sanrey closed his eyes.

"You're not touching my leg until he gets here." Miley hesitated for a moment, then nodded and hurried out, closing the door behind him.

"Arien…" Sanrey opened his eyes again.

"I'm sorry about before. For shoving you."

"Forget it."

"I was angry." His mouth twisted.

"We haven't even known each other that long, but… I like you. I don't have brothers, but people say brothers fight all the time and then act like nothing happened, right?"

"Pretty much." Arien squeezed his hand.

"Besides, you saved the Golden Mussel. And everyone on it. I think that earns you one free shove."

"You saw me?"

"Hard to miss." Sanrey managed a weak grin.

"I even got a Trait. Told you. Risk pays off." His eyes dropped to his legs.

"Though I suppose you have to survive it first. Father probably could've got the ship back under control anyway. Maybe. I don't know. I just saw the sail and…" He paused.

"I didn't think. I climbed." Arien said nothing.

"That damned lightning." Sanrey went quiet for a moment.

"Do you think…" He stopped.

"Never mind."

"We'll figure something out," Arien said as Sanrey squeezed his hand. The door slammed against the wall as Fenrey strode inside.

"What happened?" His gaze went immediately to his son.

"Miley says you're refusing treatment."

"He wants to take my leg." Fenrey stopped. His eyes moved down Sanrey's body and settled on the twisted right leg.

"Sanrey—""You know what that means." Arien considered leaving, but Sanrey's fingers tightened around his hand. Fenrey drew a slow breath.

"You have your whole life ahead of you. You can change your Profession. Find work ashore. Marry. Have children. You can still have a life."

"I don't want Gordon's life." Fenrey went still.

"You saw him in Nassan. Two years ago he was sailing. Now he drinks until someone carries him home."

"Gordon had been a sailor for thirty years."

"And what am I?" Sanrey snapped. Pain immediately twisted his face. He waited until he could breathe again.

"I've been on ships since I was eight. This is what I am."

"You're fifteen."

"I'm a Mariner." Fenrey looked away as Sanrey's voice grew quieter.

"I won't spend the rest of my life watching other men go where I can't."

"You won't."

"Don't lie to me." Tears had begun running down the boy's temples into his hair.

"I won't let Miley cut it off." Sanrey swallowed, his grip on Arien's hand tightening again.

"Give me to the sea."

"No."

"I have the right to ask."

"No."

"Father—""I said no!" Fenrey's fist struck the edge of the table.

"I am not throwing my son overboard!" Sanrey flinched. Fenrey's fist remained against the table for a moment. Then his shoulders sagged, and he stepped closer.

"Miley will save what he can. No amputation. When we reach Wayhold, I'll find you a Healer. I don't care what it costs."

"And if they can't fix it?" Fenrey had no answer.

"You know they won't," Sanrey whispered.

"Not properly. I'll never climb again. Never work the rigging." He drew a shaky breath.

"How would you feel if someone took the sea from you?" Fenrey had no answer. Arien looked between them. Tears ran freely into Sanrey's hair now. For all his talk about the sea, Arien could feel how tightly the boy still held his hand. He didn't want to die. He was terrified of what surviving might cost him. Arien knew that fear. The memory came before he could stop it. A knock on the door. Police uniforms dripping rain onto the floor. There had been an accident.

Arien had spent the entire time searching for a way to help Sanrey without revealing too much. There wasn't one. When Fenrey drew breath to answer, Arien spoke first.

"I told you I was going to Wayhold to study," he said quietly.

"But you never asked what."